


How'd You Get This Way? (You)

by Isis_McGee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Always Female Dean, Cisswap, Deanna Winchester - Freeform, F/M, Oral Sex, Season 2, girl!Dean Winchester - Freeform, single character gender changes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 02:09:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2006982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isis_McGee/pseuds/Isis_McGee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Deanna hunt and they annoy each other and then they sleep together. Before they sleep together.</p><p>Featuring suddenly awkward wrestling matches, intrusive sibling behavior, and stilted confessions of incestuous lust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How'd You Get This Way? (You)

“That fucker chipped my nail polish,” Deanna Winchester mourned, looking down at her fingertips.

“Your nail polish was already chipped, Dean,” her brother sighed, rolling his eyes and sliding into the car. “You can repaint them when we get back to the hotel. You’ve gotta sew up my shoulder before you do.”

“Oh, you’re fine, you pansy.” The engine of her car was rumbling and Deanna couldn’t help but smile. Successful hunt, nail polish and minor shoulder injury that Sammy totally didn’t need stitches on, thank you very much, aside, and her girl purring and the tape deck blaring Heart? Life was pretty alright. 

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.” But she didn’t have time to elaborate on why her little brother was being ridiculous. “If the real thing don’t do the trick,” she crooned along, rolling her window down. Sam’s hair was flopping around in his face and she reached a hand over and ruffled her hand through it with an even wider grin than she’d had before. “Ooh, barracuda!”

“Knock it off,” Sam said half-heartedly. 

“Not my fault you have stupid hair,” she shrugged. “I mean, seriously, Sammy, you’re supposed to be the guy here. If I weren’t such a hot piece of ass, I’d think you were the Winchester daughter, not me.”

Sam decidedly ignored his sister. He never knew what to say to her when she got like that. He could always hear their father in his head; “don’t call your sister ugly” a directive burned into his brain in the backseat of the impala at 6 years old when Deanna wouldn’t stop calling him a freak and he wanted something to say back and settled on the first thing he thought would hurt her. And now it definitely wasn’t true. Somewhere around the age of 11, Sam had recognized the way not only his own temporary friends looked at his older sister, but the way boys she’d smile at around mouthfuls of pie in diners looked a little dazed and the way some of dad’s friends would catch themselves and avert their gaze before John could get a hand on his gun. Now of course at 27, she did it on purpose‒ the low cut tops and the skirts that made it 100 times easier to distract a guy from his pool shot and the ridiculous red lipstick always left on bottlenecks. She countered it with hair no longer bleached blonde and flowing, but natural and cropped close to her head and scuffed up combat boots and a silver barbell stuck through her eyebrow. John had hated it‒ the hair and the piercing‒, but Sam privately loved it if only for the reason that it showed his sister could do something against John’s wishes.

“You hungry? I’m starved. Wicked craving for onion rings. Like a huge basket of them. And a guy.”

“Yeah, a huge basket of onion rings will get you laid.”

“Oh, I’ve got game, little brother. I could get laid covered in harpy blood and gunpowder. I have gotten laid covered in harpy blood and gunpowder, I think.”

Sam rolled his eyes at Deanna’s grin. 

“To answer your question, no, I’m not hungry. We ate like an hour before we left to track this thing. Also, I still need you to sew up my shoulder.”

“Yeah, but we took down a skinwalker in the meantime.” At Sam’s blank look, Deanna went on, still leaving Sam’s statement about his shoulder ignored. “You’re so weird, man. How does a hunt not make you wanna just, like, devour bar food and pussy?”

Sam made a face. “Could you be grosser?”

“What? Like you’ve never eaten a girl out? There’s no way.”

“There’s no way I’m having this conversation with my sister.”

“How’d you get to be such a prude?” They were pulling into a drive-thru and Deanna turned down the radio, which was now playing Joan Jett. She ordered a ridiculous amount of onion rings and a large pop and cheese curds and a milkshake and Sam was struck by how disgusting his sister was in so many ways, despite the fact of what she looked like. Because Sam himself had noticed how hot his sister was when he hit 14 years old. 

If he honestly had to answer her question as to why he was such a prude, he’d have to tell her he wasn’t really‒ he’d watched porn with the guys he’d lived with at Stanford and Jess on more than one occasion had asked him where the hell he’d learned dirty talk‒ it was just her. It’s hard to want to be open and joking about sex with his sister when the first real experience he had with it was coming back to the house they’d rented from the library after school and walking in on her. She’d been on the couch with some guy, her naked back half to her brother when he walked through the door. She’d been rocking shallowly and moaning, head thrown back so Sam and the college sophomore she’d been riding could see the sweat that glistened on the flush of her neck. Sam hadn’t ever seen any girl’s in real life by that point, but the thought that his older sister’s breasts were perfect sprang into his mind anyway. He hadn’t been able to look away when the guy took one pink nipple into his mouth and Deanna took that moment to finally move her head. When she looked down she caught a glimpse of Sam and shrieked, “Sammy, get the fuck outta here!” He’d run to his room at what was then the fastest he’d ever moved. It wasn’t until he had thrown himself onto his bed and was breathing heavily that he realized he was stupidly hard. 

“I’m not a prude, you’re my sister is all,” seemed a safe enough answer as she pulled to the window and took her food. She drove away, shoved a whole onion ring in her mouth and shrugged.

“Whatever, Sammy” she said around her food, completely unintelligible to anyone other than her brother. 

They were comfortably silent the rest of the ride back to the motel, Deanna making her way through her onion rings. She threw the car into park in the spot in front of their door before speaking again.

“You gotta love hunts in the Midwest, man. Nowhere else can you get cheese curds like this.” She shook the bag for emphasis as she exited the car. 

“You ever worry about getting fat, Dean?” Sam didn’t mean for it to be bitchy, and in all reality, he knew it would never happen, but damn, his sister put shit that wasn’t good for her in her body way too often. And he wasn’t even thinking about the questionable guys she took home. 

“Not at all; this milkshake’s keeping me curvy,” she tossed at him over her shoulder with a smack to her hip. She bumped the door open exaggeratedly with that same hip and Sam laughed. When Sam got in, she was bent over rifling through her bag. “Shirt off, bro.”

She waited expectantly, first aid kit in her hand, while Sam peeled off his t-shirt gingerly. She put a hand on his uninjured shoulder and pushed him to bend over a little. 

“Damn, he gotcha pretty good. I thought you were just being a drama queen. Why’d you let me stop for food?”

“It’s not all that bad, really. You’d have been a bigger drama queen if you didn’t stop. You’re the reason ‘hangry’ is a term, you know.” Deanna had crawled onto the bed behind him on her knees and indicated for him to sit up. 

“Ha-ha. I oughta just splash this damn peroxide on you instead of using the cotton ball for that, you know.” Sam, once again, was quiet. Deanna didn’t speak as she worked either. She’d learned gentleness sewing up John’s wounds so the whiskey bottle in his hand had always tipped over his skin and not into his mouth and her being her daddy’s little girl paid off for Sam in this instance as well. There were so many other ways that it didn’t that he’d take every small victory. 

“Thanks,” Sam said when she patted his back to say she was done. 

“You know how I feel about you thanking me for shit like that. I gotta look out for my pain in the ass little brother, right? No matter how solid he’s gotten.” She grabbed the rest of her food from where she’d set it and leaned back against the headboard. It had been Sam’s bed the night before but she didn’t seem to care. 

“If you get crumbs in my bed, I will take yours,” he warned.

“I’m not sleeping in this bed‒ you probably had some wet dream last night about all the research you had to do yesterday and I’m not dealing with spunked on sheets.”

“Again, could you be grosser?”

“If I tried really hard, probably,” she grinned. “But don’t worry, Sammy, we could just share like old times.”

“The last time we shared a bed I was like 8.”And at that point he hadn’t ever had to keep himself from staring at his sister when she had to take her pants off to get stitches on her thigh.

“Then looks like you’ll have to stay in this bed. But, you know how clumsy I am. I might spill on it.” As she said it, she shook the milkshake side to side, wicked grin plastered onto her mouth. 

“Fine. Spill away, I thought you were going to try to go get laid anyway.” 

“Naw, the food slaked that desire.”

“Did you just use the word ‘slaked?’ That’s awfully SAT ready for a dropout monster hunter.”

“Fuck you, I know stuff.” Sam just stared waiting for an explanation, not buying that one. “Okay, maybe that time we split up and I went to Indiana and you tried to get to California, you left some stupid college-y book with a bunch of poems and shit in it in the car and I had read the only copy of Popular Mechanics that I had like 6 times already. Shut up about it,” she finished as a smirk started forming on Sam’s face.

“You read poems for fun, Dean. You, Ms. allergic to school, I only need my gun and my car, Deanna Winchester, read poems for fun.” Sam was cracking up as soon as the words left his mouth. Deanna glared and Sam laughed on. He felt something hit him before he saw his sister was pelting her remaining cheese curds at him, which made him laugh even harder. Deanna’s response was to launch herself at her brother which resulted in her knocking over the milkshake she hadn’t set down properly and straddling Sam, knees trying to keep his arms down, as the shake inched closer to him. Sam flipped her easily enough though, managing somehow to get a hand on her thigh and shoving hard. He was forcing her one knee into her chest and had a hand behind her head‒that half a habit from concrete floors‒, a move he’d used before Stanford when they’d sparred under the watchful eye of their father. It wasn’t until now that he was half naked and still sort of grinning like an idiot and using it to keep her pinned to a bed that he realized what a compromising position he put her in every time he’d used the move. He immediately eased up, but he could feel her trying to grapple with him still if he did and before she could do much damage, he adjusted his position to put her back in the same spot. “No, you lose, big sister. Admit it.”

“I’m not admitting shit,” she grunted, trying to buck up against him. He tightened his hand, pulling her hair. “Hair pulling; you’re either a 5 year old throwing a tantrum or you’re trying to turn me on, either way, calm dow, little brother.”

Sam sputtered and loosened his grip. Deanna broke his hold and she sat up. She looked on the verge of calling him a prude or something again so Sam didn’t let her. 

“You spilled. Really?” Sam shook his head.

“Yeah, on your bed, so I win.”

Sam ignored her. Standing up and heading to the bathroom he said over his shoulder, “I’m taking the first shower.” 

He perfunctorily washed his hair, some of the rivulets coursing down turning colors from the dirt and blood still on him. Deanna may have cleaned his shoulder wound up, but she hadn’t bothered with the bits of blood dried on the rest of his back. Lathering up a washcloth with the bar of inoffensively scented soap provided by the hotel and running it across his torso, Sam thought about where his mind was that night. His sister may have been the one to bring up sex, but he couldn’t keep from thinking about it now. He gave a cursory stroke across his cock and wondered if maybe he was just in denial about post-hunt highs. He was used to watching Deanna eat her weight in cheeseburgers after they got home from a hunt and then covering for her with John when she snuck out in skintight leather and snuck back in with her hair rucked up in the morning, but in the year and a half since he’d been hunting again he hadn’t felt the impulse to follow her lead. As he ran the washcloth across the tops of his thighs, his sister’s wild laughter flashed in his mind and he could feel the way her leg muscles moved when he’d had her pinned moments ago. Her thighs would probably twitch the same way if he put his lips to them and worked inward toward her‒ Sam stopped his thought there, moving his hands to rinse his hair, far from his quickly becoming interested dick. 

“You’d better not be jacking off in here; I need hot water too, you know”

“Jesus, Dean! I can’t even shower in peace?” Sam asked, peeking his head around the curtain. He was sure to keep the rest of himself behind it.

“I’ve gotta pee.” She shrugged.

“You couldn’t have waited two minutes?” Sam ducked back behind the shower curtain to avoid seeing his sister peel her jeans down. “A normal sister would have waited.”

“Yeah, well a normal sister wouldn’t have to sew up her brother for getting in the way of a skinwalker, so my bathroom habits are screwed up.” Sam was concentrating hard on thinking of anything other than Deanna being partly unclothed less than five feet from him which was why he missed her warning that the water was about to get cold. He yelped a little and Deanna laughed. 

“Give me my towel and get out,” he barked and shut the water off. The curtain was ripped back and a towel hit Sam square in the chest. He moved it to cover himself instantly. “Seriously, a little privacy would be nice.”

“Oh, whatever,” she said and her shirt came over her head. Sam goggled. “You get out. I told you I need to shower too.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t just get in with me for all the time you gave me.” Sam was out and maneuvering around her to get to the door. 

“Hey, there’s an idea,” she said sarcastically as she slid her jeans down and kicked free of them. The freckles on her thighs stood out darkly in the terrible lighting in the bathroom. “You need someone to wash your back next time, Sammy?” 

He ignored her and practically fell out of the bathroom to try to avoid watching her bra come off when her hands went to the clasp. He pulled on his boxers and a t-shirt to sleep in and could hear his sister singing in the shower.

He twisted the top off a beer and took a drink as he flipped on the TV, praying it wouldn’t switch onto porn. He was lucky‒ it was some stupid cop show and he mindlessly clicked over the channels until he heard “Hey, turn that back. You can’t just change Star Wars, man.”

Deanna was in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and her hair was even darker because it was still wet. She looked younger with her face scrubbed clean of makeup and without her eyebrow piercing in. Younger and more vulnerable; less like a woman who spent hours cleaning her guns at least once a week and could land a man twice her size onto his ass in six seconds and more like a girl who was still dealing with the grief of losing her father and needed to be reminded that she was worth every sacrifice anyone had ever made for her. 

“We’re really sharing?” Sam asked when Deanna sat down on the other side of the bed with a beer in her hands. She just smiled and leaned her bottle over so Sam could clink his against it. 

By the time they’d watched all of A New Hope and by some television miracle, Empire Strikes Back came on and was half way through, the Winchesters had almost finished the beer they’d brought into the hotel room and Sam kept nodding off. Deanna poked him in the side every time he did. 

Finally she took pity on him. “Just put your beer down and go to sleep, little brother. I won’t write on you with sharpie or anything.” Sam nodded sleepily and sunk down until he head was flat on a pillow. He turned to try to get comfortable, winding up on his stomach and trying to adjust. He heard Deanna laugh. “That was a pretty slutty lookin’ move, Sammy.”

“Shut up,” he murmured into his pillow. No one else would have understood him, but Deanna was so used to hearing those words she knew exactly what he said. 

After that, Sam fell into unconsciousness, able to ignore the light from the glowing TV and the warmth that seemed to radiate from his sister.

When he woke up, that heat he’d noticed coming off his sister was even more extreme, since she was tucked under one of his arms and one of hers was snug around him as well. One of her legs had snuck between his somehow. Her breath ghosted across his neck and below that her breasts were flush against him; between that and the fact that her leg was resting against his groin, Sam’s sleeping body had been very interested in the warm girl sharing his bed, not knowing or caring it was his sister. Sam thought that maybe something in his body would know, would recognize that he shared too much genetic material with Deanna to have a reaction that close to her, but it didn’t seem as thought that were the case. As Deanna let out a groan in her sleep and something else that could have been a whisper of words and tried to burrow even closer to Sam, her lips coming into contact with his clavicle and her leg rubbing against his erection, Sam knew that was definitely not the case; his hips rocked on their own accord seeking the heat and pressure of the body near him. He had to move. He had to get up or it was going to wind up incredibly awkward when he turned into a 14 year old with an incest bend and woke his sister up by humping her leg.

Sam tried to extract himself from Deanna, gently trying to return her arm to her own side of the bed and allow her leg out of the cage of his without jostling her too badly. He got to the edge of the bed before it creaked too loudly and his plan not to wake Deanna failed.

“Sammy?” she asked, groggily. There seemed to be an odd edge of panic in her voice though. “You alright?” 

“Yeah, Dean, I’m fine. Just‒”

“Your shoulder bugging you at all?” she sounded more awake at the prospect of Sam hurting.

“No. Go back to sleep.” As he padded to the bathroom, Sam weighed his options; he could try to get himself off as quickly and quietly as possible and hope that Deanna had fallen back asleep when he got back or he could try to name as many monsters and how to kill them as he could think of. The latter seemed like the safer option, even if it was less fun and more difficult. 

He’d gotten through around 15 of the most common monsters they faced when he heard his sister. “Sam, come back to bed, please. I’m cold.”

“Dean, I can sleep in my bed. I don’t think you really got that many crumbs in it.” Sam knew the protest sounded weak. 

“Get your ass back in bed. There’s still whole cheese curds in it.”

“Really‒” But she was up and standing in front of him with a hand around his wrist leading him back to bed before he could argue further. 

“I can stay on my side,” she said sleepily as she nestled back down under the covers. Sam didn’t know how to respond without giving something away, so he didn’t. He just lay down and tried to force the tension from his body. If, in the morning, it turned out that Deanna hadn’t lied about staying on her side, Sam could ignore the momentary flash of disappointment. 

***

Somehow it kept happening; they’d wind up driving so late into the night that they’d have to stop at the only motel they’d seen in miles and Deanna would come out saying they only had king beds available. When Jo Harvelle had surprised them by showing up in Philly, Sam almost thought that Deanna had meant him when she said “we can share the bed” because it’d been happening so often. He’d gotten used to it at that point; his body had only reacted once since that first night and, Deanna didn’t notice, or, if she did, she didn’t say anything and Sam doubted his older sister would give up such prime ribbing material.

It was after Mississippi that whatever balance they’d been in came crashing down. Sam had never seen Deanna so shook up. He’d witnessed every breakdown his sister had ever had though they were few and far between, but this went beyond that; Deanna shut down practically. For the next three nights, he woke up with her curled next to him in his bed despite the fact that he’d fallen asleep with her in the bed across from him. He’s been able to see tracks where her tears streaked her face and his heart ached as he slung an arm across her. On the fourth night he woke up with her body pressed against his and he was hard enough to worry about falling back asleep and having his hips move on their own. Sam hadn’t ever hated his body as much as he did at that moment. 

He, as he had those weeks ago when this sharing business started up again, tried to inch out of bed without disturbing her, but he had little luck. She sighed quietly and turned over, and he thought he was home free. He was two steps from the bathroom when he heard her.

“Sam, I’m sorry,” she told him and stood up, walking to him. “Please come back to bed.”

“Okay, just let me pee,” he stalled. He ducked into the bathroom, turned the faucet on, and counted to ten trying to think of the least appealing things he could; wondering why Deanna had apologized didn’t even cross his mind he was concentrating so hard. He refrained from sighing in relief when his erection did go down. He flushed the toilet and hoped his act was convincing enough. 

When he stepped back out, Sam couldn’t make out the look on Deanna’s face in the dark, but he knew what it had to look like anyway. Deanna had never gotten over being embarrassed about needing things, no matter how often Sam had tried to tell her it didn’t make her weak. Part of Sam wanted to remind her of that fact, but pushing wouldn’t do any good when Deanna’s nerves were this raw.

She tugged on his hand and he followed her, moving across the mattress to get back to his original spot. He moved so he was lying on his back, unsure what to actually do with his arms since he couldn’t let them spread out. Deanna said “I was actually pretty comfy how we were, if you were.” She sounded awfully shy about it though. 

Sam sputtered out a laugh, trying to act as though everything were normal and he didn’t know Deanna had been falling apart since her encounter with the crossroads demon. “I didn’t take you for a cuddler, Dean.”

“Don’t you dare tell anyone. I’ll put Nair in your shampoo again,” she warned. It was clear that she was putting on a show, but Sam didn’t mention it. She continued, “You’re like a furnace. It’s cozy. Just shut up and let me in.” 

Sam lifted an arm and let his sister slide under it and wrap her one arm around him, the heat of her burning right through his shirt. She’d said he was a furnace, but she felt like a fever to him. She made him dizzy in her closeness. Sam couldn’t help but tense up when one of her feet found its way between his calves.

“You got so cold getting up to go to the bathroom.” Sam grunted his agreement. He knew the tension was palpable. He almost wanted to say something, but Deanna beat him to it. “I’m sorry.”

“What? For me getting cold?” he was trying not to be distracted by the small circles her hand was making on his back, evidently subconsciously on her part. His sister, much to her denial, was good at this. Yeah, she loved random one night stand sex and could shoot whiskey and pool and pistols, but she was soft in so many ways. She was caring and comforting and she loved deeply, even if she rebelled against that. Those traits shone through to him, especially when she was upset. It didn’t negate how much of a badass she was and she was awfully secretive about it, but Sam saw the nurturer in her more often than Deanna probably would have liked. And he never felt worse than he did at the moment when it seemed like she needed someone to nurture her instead and he couldn’t seem to get his traitorous libido under control. He didn’t want to want his sister, he really didn’t. But he was still reciting the pledge of allegiance in the back of his mind when her hand brushed against his spine.

“No, dumbass. Don’t be stupid. You know what I’m talking about.” She managed somehow to convey her annoyance without him even having to look at her. When he did look down at her, her half hidden face looked almost embarrassed though.

“It’s okay. I know the crossroads demon‒”

“That’s not what I’m sorry for. I mean, I am sorry I’ve been moody, but it’s the other thing.” 

“Dean,” he started. “What else are you talking about? What are you sorry for?”

“Please don’t make me say it,” she murmured. Sam pulled back from her and sat up, their legs still tangled together. If she was apologizing because of how his body had reacted to her, he thought he might be sick. He said her name again and she sat up too. “I know you didn’t get up just to pee, Sammy.”

He tried not to panic and started to apologize, “Dean, I’m sorry. I was asleep, I can’t control what‒”

“What?” She looked confused.

“What?” he asked.

“What are you apologizing for?”

“I asked you what you were apologizing for first and then you got all cryptic.” He shook his head as if to clear it. This was the dumbest and most awkward conversation he’d had with his sister since he was 8 and asked her where babies came from. For a moment it seemed like they weren’t going to continue it. Deanna broke the silence.

“I didn’t know I started talking in my sleep. But you have to forgive me, alright?” she asked, desperately. Sam was taken aback and couldn’t respond before she went on. “Because they’re just dreams and I know you’re probably so weirded out because I’m your big sister and I’m supposed to take care of you. You don’t need this. I know I’m fucked up, Sammy. But I need you. I need you so much, especially with dad dead. Especially knowing what I know about why he’s dead. You’re all I’ve got and I don’t know how the wires in my brain got crossed but you have to forgive me‒”

Sam found his hands on his sister’s shoulders. She almost looked terrified and he had no idea how to handle it. She wasn’t ever like this. She hadn’t even been like this the night he’d left for Stanford. She’d been screaming at him with tears in her eyes and hadn’t seemed so shaken.

“Deanna, what the hell are you talking about?” It was so rare that he used her full name to address her that she looked up immediately. “What do I have to forgive you for? You didn’t do anything.”

“I wouldn’t ever do anything about it, Sammy. I won’t. And I know it’s fucked up that I asked you to come back to share a bed with me after that, but‒”

“Seriously, what in the hell are you talking about, Dean? You didn’t do anything that would make me not want to share a bed. I mean, other than the fact that you sort of are a coverhog and you might have drooled on me a little, but what the hell? I ought to be apologizing to you.”

“For what? I’m the one who can’t keep her fucked up incest dreams in her own mind.”

Sam just stared for a moment, unsure of what he had heard. He could have sworn his sister admitted that she’d been having the same sort of feelings that he’d been harboring vaguely for almost ten years, at least subconsciously. 

“You’ve never talked in your sleep.” Of all the things Sam wanted to say in that moment, that hadn’t been on the list. Deanna was the one staring then. After a moment of pregnant silence, she cracked.

“So, I just admitted that for no reason?” Sam nodded. “Fuck.” She looked like she was about to start talking again but Sam spoke up.

“I wanted to apologize to you remember?”

“For what?” 

Sam took a breath, steeled himself at the thought that he owed it to Deanna to embarrass himself like she just had if nothing else, and talked. “For having to get out of bed because of how hard sleeping next to you made me. And it’s not just because I was asleep and my body recognized yours as girl. I can’t keep telling myself that. I thought I was over this when I left for California but I guess not.” Sam’s hands had fallen away from his sister’s shoulders as he talked. No matter what she’d just confessed it felt too strange to keep his hands on her and say this. 

Deanna searched his face. “What are you saying, Sammy?”

“I’ve wanted you since I was 14.” And so there it was. The biggest secret he’d ever kept‒ he may have hidden most of his life before Stanford from Jess, and he’d hidden his college plans before that, and he’d made a life of lying to witnesses to do this damn job, but they all didn’t even compare to the fact that he wanted his sister in a way he decidedly was not supposed to. 

They both sat in silence. It seemed interminably long. Deanna pushed away, moving as though to get out of the bed. 

“Okay, well, I’m gonna go…shower, and I’ll take that bed‒”

“You showered already tonight,” Sam pointed out. His voice was steady, faintly exasperated as it was wont to be with his sister.

“Sammy, I can’t. I can’t fuck you up worse than I obviously did,” she said without looking at him. Sam grabbed her hand in response.

“You didn’t do anything.”

She looked up, eyes sparkling peridot near tears. “I obviously did. I mean, I know when you were little you used to say we were gonna get married, but you’re supposed to grow out of that, little brother. I’m definitely not supposed to encourage it. I’m not supposed to say your name in my sleep. I could have‒”

“You couldn’t have done a thing differently. How we grew up wasn’t your fault.”

“Oh, so Dad raised two incestuous kids?” She began pacing at that, and she wouldn’t look at Sam. 

“You know that’s not what I’m saying.”

“Well, what are you saying?”

“That you can’t blame yourself for this. You can’t. All you’ve ever done, all your life is watch out for me, so you don’t get to blame yourself for this.”  
Deanna looked like she was going to say something and Sam knew it would be a protest filled with guilt and self-hatred and other bullshit that wasn’t true. So, he stood up too and cut her off.

“Does it matter, anyway?” The expression Deanna had been wearing dropped; she went from anguished to shocked. Sam himself was shocked at what he was saying, but the more he went on the surer of himself he felt. “Why does it matter, Deanna?”

She goggled at him. “Because we’re brother and sister, Sam! It’s not normal.”

“Nothing we do is normal! Neither one of us is ever going to get normal! You’re all I have!” Sam breathed heavily, trying to calm himself down. He didn’t want to shout at Deanna at all. “You’re all I have and honestly, you’re all I want to have.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is. Jesus, Dean, do you not get that I can’t survive without you? That I’m not happy not around you? You drive me fucking insane but you matter more to me than anyone else does. And you’ve as good as told me that too. I don’t understand why this matters.”

“Sammy‒”

“No, you explain to me why, when our lives are as fucked up as they are, we shouldn’t just be together?”

Sam could see that a million things raced through Deanna’s mind‒ more than likely a bolded word starting with the letter i was foremost and Sam knew her enough to know she’d worry about how much he might hate her for giving into him on this was up there as well‒ but all she said was “Christo.”

Sam snorted. “I’m not possessed.”

“I had to be sure.”

Sam ran a hand through his hair and glanced at the clock; it was too late to care about every reason that said they shouldn’t. “We’re both consenting adults and we don’t owe anybody shit. Don’t we do enough for people? Can’t we have what we want?”

Deanna chewed at her bottom lip and wouldn’t look at Sam. She made a move to her bag and pulled out a pair of jeans and slipped them on over the boxers she’d worn to bed. He said her name but she shook her head. She grabbed her leather jacket off the back of the chair near the door and the keys to the impala. 

“Dean, you can’t leave.” Sam tried to keep the panic out of his voice but failed. Deanna paused in the doorway.

“I’ll be back, Sam, just gotta…clear my head.”

“It’s 4 in the morning. Where are you gonna go?” But Deanna wasn’t listening. Her footsteps seemed interminable and loud but Sam knew he was imagining it. He yelled after her when she was slamming the impala’s door shut. “Where are you gonna go?” 

She couldn’t hear him over the engine. Sam stepped back and let the door close and sat on the bed that should have been Deanna’s. His hands hung between his knees and he let his head drop too. 

Sam didn’t know how long he sat in that position, but it was long enough for his shoulders to cramp and for him to realize he was nodding off. He wanted to wait for Deanna to come back, wanted to make sure she did come back, but even the chorus of you fucked it up running through his mind on repeat couldn’t keep him awake. He wrenched himself off the bed and forced his feet to carry him to the other one. It was arbitrary, but he couldn’t help himself.  
He was in the bathroom, attempting to brush the taste out of his mouth even though it had nothing to do with hygiene, when he heard the tell-tale rumble of the car. He put his hands flat on the side of the sink and counted to ten and kept himself planted firmly in the bathroom until he finished with his teeth. He walked out into the main room just as Deanna was opening the door. 

They stared at each other. Deanna didn’t take her hand off the door knob even though she let it close. Sam opened his mouth and snapped it shut again. Deanna noticed and kept her mouth closed too. She shrugged off her jacket and tossed it and the keys back onto the table. Sam broke and asked where she’d gone. 

“Thought about going to find some place to get drunk.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“No place is open, for one,” she said. She walked towards the bed that Sam had sat down on. “And for two, I knew you’d bitch about it and then feel guilty.” She insinuated herself between him and the bed and Sam’s heartbeat ratcheted up.

“Guilty for what?” he could still ask around his heart in his throat. Deanna looked at him hard and then she shook her head slightly. She didn’t answer his question.

“Fuck it. I never get what I want.” She leaned down and kissed him. Her lips were pressed against his and it took Sam a moment to recognize what that meant. He almost didn’t know what to do. Sam responded tentatively and Deanna stopped to sigh. “After that whole speech before that’s all you’re gonna give me? What the hell‒”

Sam remembered what Deanna kissing him meant then and his hands clutched at her, bringing her mouth back to his. Their lips slid together and their tongues flicked into each others’ mouths and Sam couldn’t remember the last time a kiss was so good. 

Deanna nipped at his bottom lip and he sucked on her tongue before pulling her onto his lap and moving to kiss her neck. He dragged his lips against the bolt of her jaw up to her ear, breathing heavy against her. Deanna moaned softly when Sam attached his lips to her earlobe. He pulled back and she held in a whimper.

She felt him smile and she went to call him a jackass, but was prevented by Sam pulling off her shirt. He kept his hands on Deanna’s waist and drank in the sight of her. Her breasts were still perfect. He leaned down, kissing from her collarbone to the spot between her breasts before starting to suck a bruise there. His hands were busy working on pushing her jeans down when he moved his mouth to close around a nipple. Sam had moved to the opposite one and Deanna was moaning by the time they’d divested her of all her clothing. He straightened up and Deanna expected him to just look at her again, but she found herself on her back on the bed.

Sam whipped off his own shirt and bent down so quickly Deanna barely got to see him, but as his mouth dropped lower down her stomach, she didn’t care. Sam moaned before he even put his tongue on Deanna’s sex and she parted her legs even further at the sound. She cried out when he finally licked at her.

Deanna tasted like Heaven; she tasted like salt and skin and the same way every girl he’d ever gone down on had tasted, but the fact that he couldn’t forget whose clit his lips were wrapped around mattered. It mattered that her whines had been the subtle soundtrack to him jacking off for years; he’d heard Deanna have an orgasm before and he wanted to be the one to pull those noises from her, wanted to feel her legs pulse and jump around his ears and wanted to know what it felt like when she clenched her walls around his cock, because he was this far and he didn’t want to stop. Deanna didn’t want him to either if the way she actually moaned out “don’t stop” meant anything. Sam renewed the vigor of his tongue. He flicked it against Deanna’s clit and pressed against her after a moment and went back to moving, circling it and varying his speed. Deanna’s hips rocked and Sam knew she could feel his smile against her at her desperation. 

“I want to fuck you,” Sam said and pulled himself away from his sister. Deanna’s eyes were blown wide, the irises ringed barely with bright green. “If you don’t want to, I’ll spend hours here, but I want to fuck you.”

She sat up on her elbows and raised an eyebrow at him. “I don’t get a turn?”

Sam reached for her and yanked her to him so he could kiss her own taste back to her. Deanna steered Sam so that he was sitting on the bed as well. She moaned into the kiss as she rearranged her legs and straddled him, her sex teasing against his still covered hardness. Deanna detached her lips from Sam’s despite the grip he had on her head and she sucked kisses against his throat. Sam’s hands fell to her flank and he wrapped them around the back of her thighs. Deanna pushed his shoulders back so he was flat on the bed and she tried to continue her descent down his chest, flicking her tongue at his left nipple before popping the button on his pajama pants. Instead of reaching into his fly like he’d expected, she tugged at the pants and freed Sam’s erection. Before she could wrap a hand around him or make her way back down his body, Sam used his grip to drag her up closer to his mouth. 

"Sammy, you toppy jerk, let me suck you off.” Sam swatted at her ass and she sighed and settled her knees over his shoulders. Sam hummed his approval and his tongue swept up her, starting at her pussy and ending at her clit.

“I told you,” he said dropping his head down back to the bed. “Hours. But feel free to suck me.”

“Oh, you wanna sixty-nine, little brother? Taste how wet I get with your dick in my mouth?” Deanna teased as she maneuvered herself around. She put her knees on his shoulders, enough that he’d have to strain his neck up to reach her until she lowered herself. He whined underneath her. “Just wait.”

Deanna stopped teasing her brother to lean down and suck the head of his dick into her mouth. Her tongue teased at the slit and circled the crown and her lip caught at the underside when she pulled back. Sam held back a groan. Deanna dipped her head back down and sucked Sam as far into her mouth as she could. She wrapped a hand around what still wasn’t in her mouth when he hit the back of her throat and she hummed. Sam’s hips bucked up and Deanna worked around a gag. The way her throat tried to close, tightening around Sam’s tip, made him bark out a sound of pleasure. Her lips twitched against him and they were as soft as they’d always looked and the feeling paired with the way her tongue danced around him lit his nerves up. His arms wrenched at Deanna’s legs and he pushed her groin down so he could bury his tongue up her cunt. He felt her squeal around him and then moan and they pulled the sounds from each other for what felt like forever. They panted around each other and licked and sucked and tasted and Sam felt Deanna start to throb. He slipped a finger into her and sucked her clit between his lips and he felt her walls contracting around him. He kept sucking until the contractions were quicker and Deanna let his dick fall from her lips as she parted them and let out a low string of curses when she came. 

It didn’t take her long to recover enough to suck Sam back into her mouth. She bobbed down and pressed her tongue against him and hollowed out her cheeks. Deanna felt Sam’s come hit the back of her throat before she heard him hiss in pleasure. Her throat swallowed his come automatically and she found herself panting when the last of it was down. Sam didn’t let her breathe long before he went back to licking her, showing her sensitized clit so much attention that she was climaxing again quickly. 

Deanna heard the blood rushing in her head and somehow they both were able to regain strength enough to straighten themselves out. Sam coiled a hand around her head and he kissed her, not sloppy or demanding, just a deep kiss that made Deanna’s belly feel warm in a way that the sweating she’d done hadn’t. 

“Did you get what you wanted this time?”

Deanna laughed. “Yes. Did you?”

Sam shrugged and Deanna had enough energy to look offended. It was his turn to laugh then. His hand snaked down to find the heat between Deanna’s legs again. “I told you I wanted to fuck you.”

“You’re gonna have to wait, kid,” Deanna tempered her rebuff by situating her ass right against him when she flipped around. “Give me until morning and I’ll rock your world.”

Deanna yawned out the last part and Sam let out a laugh again. “Okay,” he muttered when he felt her breath even out already. “I got what I’ve kinda always wanted.”

He was too tired to hate himself for how cheesy his whisper sounded and before he drifted to sleep completely, he knew that he meant it. 

***

Deanna had meant what she’d said the night before too. Sam woke up with her lips wrapped around him again, sucking him to hardness. He’d just run his fingers across the short hairs at the back of her neck when she popped off him and practically sang a good morning at him.

“Why are you so chipper?” Sam asked. “You hate mornings.” She was getting up and she had to lean over him, giving him the perfect opportunity to admire the sight of Deanna’s body stretched out above him in the sunlight. She straightened back up with a condom in her hand.

“Not mornings I get such good meat for breakfast.”

Sam started to laugh. “Seriously, could you get grosser?”

Deanna looked offended and Sam laughed even harder before he pulled her down and kissed her, not caring about how gross she was or her morning breath. He still wanted her and luckily, she wanted him too.


End file.
